Cold Mac & Cheese
by thattravelergirl
Summary: All was normal in 221B Baker Street, or as close to normal as you could get with the detective duo, until a bushy haired bookworm moves into the basement flat. Sherlock is intrigued by Miss. Hermione Granger. She is defiantly keeping a secret, and Sherlock won't rest until he finds out what she is keeping so hidden.
1. Chapter 1

"Hermione! Dear! It's so good to see you! Oh, Come in! Come in dear! You'll catch your death of cold," Mrs. Hudson exclaimed as she ushered a frostbitten girl into 221 Baker Street, "It's been so long! How are your parents?"

Hermione set down the small old trunk she was carrying and started to shed the layers encasing her in snow. She grimaced slightly at that last comment.

"They're traveling," she said bluntly, "They haven't been too good about writing though so even I haven't heard from them in a while."

The truth was that she hadn't seen or heard from her parents since the day the wiped their memories, but she'd spent some time thinking up convincing lies as to their whereabouts. As Hermione finished stripping the soaked gloves she heard faint music coming from upstairs.

"This way dear, would you like some tea?" Mrs. Hudson said leading her into 221A. She led her to a small table and began bustling about.

"How have you been dear? I've barely seen any of you since you went to that boarding school. Was it any good," the woman said, still facing the kitchen.

"It was wonderful," Hermione said, unsure of how to elaborate about her… abnormal school, "I was always top of my class, and I made really close friends."

"Well that's good. Friends are all we have in the end."

She went on about an old friend but Hermione wasn't listening. Exactly how much was she going to have to lie to live here? She would never be able to tell Mrs. Hudson about all that she had been through for the past couple of years. Being on the run had drained her emotionally, then the battle, then rebuilding Hogwarts, then an entire year of school without Harry and Ron. Everywhere she went she saw the places where her friend had died before her eyes. Harry and Ron had become Aurors, not having to go through that hell. After school she just could be a part of that world anymore, so she got in touch with Mrs. Hudson, an old family friend and asked if she could rent a flat.

"…and I would have died for her of course but then she got married and I never really saw her after that." Mrs. Hudson babbled on as she set the tea on the table. Hermione snapped out of her reverie, and gratefully accepted the cup and saucer. There was a pregnant pause as they both doctored their tea and sipped quietly. Mrs. Hudson set her cup down and gave Hermione a meaningful look.

"I think you'll like it here. There are two others that live here, but they're very nice. Sherlock, you'll meet him later, is a bit… unorthadox, bit rude too, but he means no harm. John is fairly ordinary. He was an army doctor, went to Afghanistan until he was shot and now he's here. They're very close, if you know what I mean…" Mrs. Hudson cut Hermione a sly glance and Hermione giggled. Regardless of their sexuality it was funny to see how much the woman wanted them to be together. They continued to sip their tea while enjoying polite conversation. Once the teacups were empty and the offer for more was kindly declined Mrs. Hudson showed Hermione to her flat.

"Bit damp, but that's the curse of basements. I'd be happy to help get rid of it…" Mrs. Hudson trailed off as she went around opening doors and fluffing dusty moth-eaten curtains. This would do fine. A quick charm would get rid of the damp and she would soon brighten the dim unfurnished place with all her things. There was a small room adjacent the bedroom that would make a brilliant library!

"You will have to share a kitchen and bathroom with the boys." Mrs. Hudson added, almost as an afterthought.

"Oh well I hope they don't mind me intruding." Hermione said, noting that she would need a vanity for what little make up and hair things she had so she wouldn't crowd the bathroom.

"Well, I suppose you better meet them, I'm sure you will want to freshen up." Mrs. Hudson said drearily, as though she wanted to avoid the inevitable. How bad could they be?

Mrs. Hudson led Hermione up the dimly lit staircase onto the landing. Someone was yelling something from behind the door. Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door and opened it with a quick 'Whoo-Hoo!'

The room was lit primarily by a television set and a desk lamp. There were a couple of comfy chairs and a sofa and tables cluttered with letters, papers, and books. The only two occupants were a short, middle aged, blonde man at a computer and a tall, thin, man with a mop of dark curls spilling from the top of his head, with all of his long limbs tangled into one of the chair. He looked vampiric in the pale light of the television. He had just finished yelling at it as they walked in. So it had been him who was shouting. Mrs. Hudson flicked on the lights and bustled in.

"Boys!" She said, bringing Hermione further into the room. "This is Hermione. She's rented the flat downstairs."

The blonde one rose to greet her.

"John Watson," He said extending his hand, "Pleasure to meet you. This lump here is-"

"Sherlock Holmes."

John jumped microscopically. He hadn't expected his flatmate to introduce himself. Sherlock rose and crossed the room swiftly, clad in only pyjamas and a dressing gown. Now that the lights were on Hermione could see that his hair was untidy, hadn't been combed in a couple of days and he had a five o'clock shadow. Yet he still held himself in a way that said you should respect him. He shook her still out stretched hand and smiled politely, but not sincerely. There was something weird about him. Given his flatmate's reaction to him greeting her, he didn't do that often, so why would he change his ways for her? He also looked at her strangely. He wasn't looking in her eyes, but it wasn't that greedy stare men sometimes give women either. He was, looking into her. It was although he could see straight into her brain and hear her thoughts. She realized she was censoring her thoughts because of him. But that was ridiculous. A muggle couldn't read her mind, despite the conflicting claims on the internet. She realized she had been staring at him for quite a while and their hands were still clasped. She pulled away awkwardly. He was unfazed. Still stoic.

"Do come in," said John, breaking the horrible silence. He gestured to a plaid overstuffed chair next to the telli that Mrs. Hudson had turned off.

Sherlock and John both returned to the chairs they had been sitting in. John turned his around to face the girl.

"So, what sort of work do you do?" asked John.

"Oh, a small position in the government," At least that wasn't a complete lie, "What about you and Sherlock?"

"Well, I used to be an army doctor, until I got shot in Afghanistan," Hermione nodded politely though she had already heard this bit, "So I was sent back here. Now I work part time at a clinic."

Hermione nodded politely. Sherlock was listening but it didn't look like he wanted to be part of the conversation. He was still staring at her, but now he looked frustrated. He saw her notice and smiled politely. He didn't move to tell her what he did for a living.

"What about you, Sherlock?" she said, attempting to goad the strange man into conversation. He snapped out of his daze a bit ungracefully, shaking his head. John looked at him, confused. Hermione internally giggled.

"Err…" he cleared his throat and straightened his posture, "I'm a consulting detective." He mentally praised himself for the slightly confused look on her face.

"Sorry, I'm not familiar with the job," she apologized.

He grinned.

"That's because I invented it. When the police behave like babbling idiots, which happens quite a lot, I show them the way," he said smugly.

"He's a professional show off, that's what he is!" John piped up. Everyone laughed except for Sherlock, who didn't appreciate the blow to his ego.

Hermione yawned and checked her watch. She wondered if 7:30 was an acceptable time to go to bed.

"You poor dear, you must be exhausted, from your day of traveling. How about I show you to your room now?" Mrs. Hudson fussed. Hermione politely excused herself and the two women left the room.

"Ok, she's gone. Spill," John ordered.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock made an attempt to look innocent, but it didn't suit him. John thought it made him look like a confused otter,

"You obviously figured out a ton about her. Spill," he said again. Sherlock decided to go ahead and tell him, it'd impress him anyway.

"Okay, well, we'll start with the basics. She's just got out of school, some strange boarding school somewhere up north, probably Scotland. She did very well but she was made fun of a lot in her early years. Recently however she's been regarded very highly. She loves books, her triceps are particularly worked for someone who isn't athletic. She hauls books with her all about. But she used to be insecure, held them to her chest tightly. Her biceps used to be worked often but she hasn't done that for, err, three years? She was known for her intellect, but also for her courage. She's experienced fear, pure fear for long periods of time. But happiness too. She has worry lines and smile lines, she had a very traumatizing life, but she's decided to leave it behind. But besides the bad bits, she lived a comfortable early life, her parents were dentists, middle class, well read, reasonably intelligent. Something has happened to them though, otherwise she would be living with them. There's something strange about her though. She had a stick poking out of her pocket, so it's must be important or it would be in her suitcase instead. She has a secret, one she's been living with for a long time, adept at lying about it. One that I very much want to figure out." Sherlock drifted off, a maniacal glint in his eyes. He balled his limbs into his chair and put his hands under his chin.

Confused otter…


	2. Chapter 2

"Sherlock you want something?" Hermione called from the kitchen. She was stirring a pot of unremarkable Mac & Cheese. The detective was once again balled up in his chair with his hands under his chin. His eyes snapped open and he looked at her belittlingly.

"I don't eat when I'm working," He said. As is she should have known!

"Sorry what?" She looked at him incredulously, "When was the last time you've eaten?"

"Wednesday." She continued looking at him, shocked. She got out two paper plates and heaped hefty servings onto each plate. Sherlock had gone back to his previous position, his eyes closed. She grabbed a fork from the untidy kitchen and walked up to his chair, plate and fork in hand. He opened his eyes with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"Eat," she said simply, extending the food toward him.

"No."

"Eat."

"No."

"I'll make you."

Sherlock smirked at her lame attempt to get him to eat.

"I'd like to see you try." He raised an eyebrow in a challenge. Her jaw tightened and she leveled her stance, still clutching at the plate.

"Fine." She climbed on top of him. She sat on him, straddle style. He looked very taken aback, stunned into silence and stillness. She grinned and held the food directly under his nose.

"Eat."

"No."

"Fine." She firmly pinched his nose. He looked ridiculous. She smiled broadly, proud of her almost-victory. He stubbornly held his breath for a long time, refusing to try to swat her away childishly. They sat like that for about a minute as the girl watched Sherlock's face gradually start to change colours. His body finally overruled him and he unwillingly opened his mouth to breath. After he exhaled a fork full of food went directly into his mouth, going a little too far causing him to gag. Hermione laughed loudly. He slowly chewed and painstakingly swallowed. He never let his eyes leave hers. He snatched the plate and the fork and began to blindly eat the rest of the meal. Hermione remained seated on his lap until he passed her a now empty plate. She smiled and bounced off to eat her dinner. He had let her win that time, but he would get back at her soon enough. And besides, the food was actually quite tasty.

"I don't like her." Sherlock complained, "She's stuck up."

Mrs. Hudson was tidying the boys' mess, John was writing a blog post, and Sherlock was playing with the eyes he normally kept in the microwave.

"No she's not! Hermione is a lovely girl! I've never known anyone more humble and polite, even when she was young!" Mrs. Hudson defended.

"You just don't like her because she's too smart to put up with your bullying. Did you hear, Mrs. Hudson, she got him to eat! She's bloody brilliant, she is, and I hope to God that you don't scare her away. She'll do you good, just you watch," John said.

Sherlock grumbled something under his breath and returned to his eyes. Ten minutes later Hermione walked in, home from work.

"Are those human eyes?" she asked excitedly, "Can I have one?"

Sherlock looked at her strangely.

"These are mine," Sherlock said, childishly protective of his eyeballs.

"Share, Sherlock!" John ordered, stifling a chuckle. Sherlock glared at John's back then turned to a very eager looking Hermione.

"Fine, but just one," he allowed. The girl made a small squeal of delight. She grabbed a pair of gloves before selecting a bright blue one and grabbing hold of a knife.

"I've always wanted to dissect one…" she said, mostly to herself. Sherlock looked at her, almost with a small amount of approval. He quickly scowled to himself and turned back to his present experiment.

**Author's Note**

Hi guys! This is my first fanfiction, so I was really nervous when I posted it, but I got 51 views in the last 9 hours! This is also the first time that I've posted anything on so I'm having some trouble learning my way around. Please bear with me! I will post as often as possible but I go to college, so I may not be able to post as often as I like. But I should never go more than a week without posting. I'm not sure how many chapters I will have, but I pinky swear that if for some reason I need to stop, you WILL have a conclusion.

Thanks SOOOO much for reading my stories, and please review, good or bad!

Thanks Again!

~thattravelergirl


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was reading in her flat one morning, about two weeks after the eyeball incedent. She stopped to look around. She had fixed it up quite nicely. The room was brightly lit and furnished with plush couches. Hermione lay on her stomach on top of her extremely comfortable bed. The room was painted a stone grey that sort of reminded her of Hogwarts. One entire wall was dedicated to a massive book shelf that had a rolling ladder. She had always loved rolling ladders, even if it just made more sense to levitate a book from its shelf. She was starting to really get comfortable here.

_**THUD!**_

She sighed and heard the shuffling of feet from above her. Two pairs of feet. John was at the store and Mrs. Hudson was next door at Speedy's. The only person home besides her was Sherlock. She rolled over and grabbed her wand from beside her bed. As she ascended the stairs that led to 221b she heard grunts and more shuffling. She silently hoped it wasn't anything she would have to use magic to fix. She could hear the fight in the living room. She paused at the top of the stairs before going through the door that led to the kitchen. She could see what was happening. Sherlock was faced against an Arabic man with a large sword. Sherlock hit his hand so the sharp object clattered to the floor. She briskly walked across the kitchen, exposing herself, and grabbed a knife. Sherlock didn't look right at her, but he knew she was there. They continued to brawl as Hermione walked as silently as possible up to the man's back and put the tip of the knife against his shoulder blade. The man froze, realizing he was now outnumbered, and slowly turned around to face his new opponent. He took in the small girl, and laughed. Meanwhile Sherlock grabbed a heavy hard covered book and smacked his ear, causing the man to go unconscious.

"Moron," he said bluntly. He straightened his jacket and looked at Hermione.

"I didn't need any help. I had this totally under-OW!" Hermione smacked the top of his head with the handle of the knife.

"I'm sure," she said, slyly grinning.

She raised her hand and threw the knife. It went so close to Sherlock's ear he could hear it whooshing past. It landed nose first, half an inch deep into the wall behind him. Sherlock spun around to inspect her work. It was an impressive shot, going right past his head without causing any harm. When he turned around she was gone. He heard her faint footsteps heading back into 221c.

"Thank you…" he said, even though she had already gone.

Hermione had just reached the bottom of the stairs when John stomped through the front door. She wondered what Sherlock was going to do with the unconscious body upstairs.

"Hi John," she chirped, "I thought you had gone to the store."

"I had a row," he replied not really meeting her eyes.

"Merlin! Are you okay?" she took a couple steps toward the doctor, but he seemed perfectly fine, "Who did you have a row with?" The doctor coloured.

"Err… the checkout machine…"

"…the machine?"

"Well, it sat there and I shouted at it."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed loudly. She continued on into her flat muttering something about 'idiot muggles'. Kids these days, they use all sorts of strange new slang. Did he hear her use 'Merlin' as a swear? John sighed and trudged up the stairs. Just before he opened the door he heard a hard

_**THUD!**_

He opened the door and saw Sherlock closing the window and resuming his normal seat on his chair. John didn't even want to know.

"Why is there a knife in the wall?" John shouted. Sherlock smiled broadly.

"I was bored," he said before closing his eyes and resuming his thinking position.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey guys! So I am SOOO excited with how this story is doing! I've had over 280 views! Does anyone know if a view is different that a visit? Like I said, I'm new here. Okay so I think my schedule for posting is going to be Monday, Wednesday and Friday (I have school on Tuesdays and Thursdays) then I'll write on Saturday and post on Sunday. I don't know how this will work, so let's just try it out! Okay? Great! Thanks so much for reading my little story and PLEASEE review! It's my favorite seeing that I got new reviews! Good or bad I appreciate everything!

Have the best possible day!

~thattravelergirl


	4. Chapter 4

"Hermione? Do you need to go to the bank?" John hollered to the basement flat. Sherlock wasn't quite sure if he wanted her to come or not. He shook his head and deleted the idea. He didn't like her. She came up the stairs, looking particularly pretty for having not done anything special. She was wearing a red coat with black fastenings, a hood, and fitted waist, and white fingerless gloves. Her bushy brown hair cascaded to her elbows and her face was clean and fresh, free of make up. She looked like a modern day Little Red Riding Hood.

"Coming along?" asked Sherlock as he slipped on his gloves. John eyed him, silently warning him to be polite.

"Yeah, got nothing better to do," she said. They exited the building, and Sherlock hailed a cab. The ride was cramped and awkward. Hermione was starting to wish she hadn't come when the cab pulled up to sleek, modern looking building, which was not a bank. The trio piled out of the cab and Sherlock paid the cabbie and led the way into the building

"Sherlock Holmes!" said a man who Hermione assumed was Sebastian Wilkes based on the name on the desk.

"Sebastian."

"How long, eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

"These are my _friends_, John Watson and Hermione Granger"

"Friends?" he said, disgustingly eyeing Hermione's figure. He attempted to bring her hand to his lips, but she sneered slightly and snatched it away. Next to her John and Sherlock both scowled at the man. Sebastian saw the unpleasant reaction to his advancements and quickly offered the trio seats.

"You're doing well. Flying around the world, twice in a month!"

Sebastian sneered microscopically, almost unnoticeable and quickly replaced it with a very fake smile.

"Right, you're doing that thing! When we were at Uni together, this guy here, he had this trick he used to do."

"It's not a trick."

"He could look at you and tell you your whole life's story."

"Yes, I've seen him do it, bloody brilliant isn't it?" John piped up, daring him to say something against his friend.

"Put the wind up everyone. We all hated him. We'd come up to breakfast and the freak wou-"

"We? Freak?" Hermione challenged. She hadn't missed Sherlock flinch at both words. Her bushy hair started to crackle with static electricity. The man sputtered, unsure of how to respond to the livid brunette. Sherlock looked at her proudly.

"What is it that you wanted, _Sebastian?_" Sherlock asked, venomously spitting out the last word. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"We've had a break in."


	5. Chapter 5

"Where are we going now?" Hermione queried.

"Edward Van Coon's flat." Sherlock replied

"Why him? There were loads of people up on that floor."

"Pillars."

"The pillars." Sherlock and Hermione said simultaneously. Sherlock looked at her strangely. They both gestured for the other to continue.

"No no, please! I'd love to hear your theory."

"Well, it makes sense. You were darting all over that floor, standing in different places while still looking at the graffiti. You were trying to find the places that could see the paint. You paused for a particularly long time at Van Coon's office. I checked it out while you were talking to Sebastian afterward, it was one of the only places that you could see the graffiti past all the pillars and dividers."

"And?" he asked, clearly impressed.

"Is there more?"

"Yes, you did pretty well though for a first shot. Traders come in at all hours of the night, the message was left at 11:40, intended for someone coming in very soon after that. Van Coon manages the Hong Kong accounts, he comes in at midnight."

They reached Van Coon's complex. Sherlock tricked the woman living above the late tradesman into letting Sherlock into her flat, while John and Hermione waited outside Van Coon's door.

"He likes you, you know." John said randomly. Hermione looked over at the doctor, surprised.

"Are you joking? He hates me. It's obvious."

"No, if he didn't like you, you wouldn't be here, or still living in the flat! He would find as many ways possible to make you uncomfortable until you finally left. He shared his eyes with you for God's sake. He must worship the ground you walk on!"

"He only shared because you told him to."

"He completely ignores me most of the time. It was just extra incentive."

Just then the door burst open and Sherlock breezed out, collecting the two. He pointed to John.

"Call Lestrade. Van Coon's been murdered."

"Ah, Sergeant, we haven't met," Sherlock said as a new man strode egotistically into the room. He glanced about the room the way Sherlock does, but Hermione and John were used to Sherlock's ego, and seeing one that was almost as big as his was surprising and off putting.

"Yeah, I know who you are. I don't want you tampering with any of the evidence." Sherlock blinked at the man.

"I phoned Lestrade, is he on his way?"

"He's busy. I'm in charge. And its Detective Inspector," He walked out of the room as Sherlock gave John and Hermione a look. They followed the 'Detective Inspector' out of the room as he said, "We're obviously looking at a suicide."

"That does seem to be the only possible expl- OWW! What was that for?"

Hermione had smacked him surprisingly hard.

"Don't pretend to be stupid John, you really can't be that thick!"

"What makes you say that," asked Sherlock, clearly very interested in what she would say in reply.

"Van Coon was left handed," She said bluntly. Sherlock smiled broadly.

"Left handed?" the DI asked.

"Do go on," Sherlock said, pleased.

"Coffee table is on the left side of the couch, mug handle pointing to the left. There's a knife over there with butter on the right side of the blade because he used his left hand to spread it." Sherlock grinned proudly while John muttered something about another Sherlock to live with and the high and mighty DI watched her in shock.

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked John. Hermione rolled her eyes. How could a man as intelligent as John be so stupid?

"Van Coon was shot in his right temple," Sherlock took over, "It would cause quite a bit of distortion." He demonstrated how difficult it would be. Hermione entertained herself trying to aim a pencil to her right temple for a few second before finally decided that was evidence enough. The rest of them watched her quietly. She nodded to herself and looked up to see the three men staring at her. She raised her eyebrows, signaling for them to stop. They continued with their conversation.

"Get a ballistics report. The bullet that killed him wasn't fired from his gun I guarantee it," said Sherlock.

"But if the door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?"

"Good, you're finally asking the right questions!"

Sherlock briskly walked out of the flat, John and Hermione in tow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey guys! Sorry for posting so late in the day! I hope you like it, and hopefully i will be able to post more often next week. Please review!

-thattravelergirl


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock led them into the street and told John to hail a cab.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. He had noticed her go slightly green at the body, but she had maintained her composure quite well. She looked slightly surprised at his interest in her well-being.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"We were just in the same room as a very obviously dead man."

"Believe it or not, I have had some experience with death."

She was surprised at herself for saying that. His eyes narrowed microscopically, as if he was studying her. She realized now that he actually was. She grinned a bit, that he would take such an interest in her.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked playfully. He furrowed his eyebrows, and blinked himself out of his stupor. He didn't answer and quickly turned to the cab John had pulled over.

"So I take it your coming?" he asked as she made a move to get in the cab.

"I've got nothing better to do."

"The intruders that can walk through walls." Sherlock said as the three of them hovered over his computer. Most of that day had been pretty bland. Sherlock had sat in his thinking position for most of the morning, John had gone out to try and get a job, so Hermione had been reading all morning. When John got back, Sherlock showed them a news report of another killing. Man dead, doors locked from the inside.

"No. No one can walk through walls, so how else could get in? Not a door, maybe a window?" suggested Hermione.

"No the windows were bolted."

"Can we go see?"

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE<strong>:

Hey guys! So I will only post twice this workweek because I didn't write many chapters over the weekend. Please don't be mad! I have a justified reason! I wrote ANOTHER Shermione fanfiction called I'm Only Human, inspired by the youtube video by LiquidHeart13. The fic is a 5000 word one-shot so hopefully the coolness of that fic will make up for the slight hold up in this fic. Also sorry If this chapter sucks, I didn't have time to run it by my beta.

So sorry for the delay, Please check out my other fic, and as always, please review.

~thattravelergirl

Here are the links. The first one is to the video, the second is to my fic.

watch?v=mWdEj3PPXtU

s/10708115/1/I-m-Only-Human

P.S. So it's not letting me post links! So I guess you add these after youtube / and fanfiction / respectively. OMG! I tried to update the chapter again and it's still being weird about the links! So sorry for all the confusion. Check it all out on my page. Sheesh! Technology 1 l thattravelergirl 0


	7. Chapter 7

They didn't 'force' DI Dimmock to give them access to the flat, but they got there much quicker as a result of Sherlock and Hermione insulting his intelligence. When they got there Sherlock looked around, reading the room, while Hermione rushed straight to the windows, checking that each one was bolted.

"I've found it!" she said when she reached a small skylight. Sherlock walked over to where she was. "It's small, but you could fit through it if you had a narrow build."

"We're dealing with a killer who can climb," Sherlock said, mostly to DI Dimmock. "Four floors up, they lock the door, think they're impregnable."

"Climb?" sneered Dimmock, "Like Spiderman?"

"He scaled six floors of Dockland's apartment building, jumped the balcony and killed Van Coon."

"You're not serious."

"Of course, that's how he got into the bank, ran along the window ledge and onto the terrace." He turned to John. Hermione was looking at something near the door. "We have to find what connect them."

"We could start with this!" Hermione shouted from the staircase. When the boys met her she was holding up a library book.

"Date stamped the same day he died." She explained.

When they got to the library, they gave Hermione the book, and she located its proper spot on the shelf in less than a minute. She handed it back to Sherlock and began browsing.

"Sherlock. Hermione." John called, pulling back a stack of books. There on the shelf was the cipher.

"So, the killer goes to the bank, leaves the threatening cipher for Van Coon. Van Coon panics, goes home, and locks himself in his apartment. Hours later, he dies," said Sherlock.

"The killer find Lukis in the library, leaves the cipher on the shelf where he knows it will be seen. Lukis goes home and dies later that night." Hermione contributed.

"Why did they have to die?" asked John.

"They didn't _have_ to die, but at some point in their lives they did something, went somewhere, saw something that singled them out to die, even if it wasn't their fault. However both saw an obscure cipher and panicked, implying that they had done something. Anyone else wouldn't have bothered themselves. We need to figure out what. Then we will be that close to finding out the cipher." Hermione explained. Sherlock and John looked at her in awe, the former slightly more than the latter.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Heeeeeyyyy guuuuiiiizzzz. Sorry it's been so long! I was waiting until Thursday to post so that it would be spaced out right, but then every day after I would be falling asleep and think 'oh shit! I haven't posted! Well i'll post tomorrow.' Next thing I know it's Sunday! I am writing as much as possible this weekend so I can post lots this week.

Sorry it took so long, and please review and let me know how my story is... what you want to see in the next few chapters... how your day's been... your thoughts on WheezyWaiter's proposal video... just review!

Sorry again!

~thattravelergirl


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was fast asleep on the sofa of 221b. She had been made to research the Hang Zou symbols and she had late into last night. She woke up to find a blanket draped around her shoulders and a note from Sherlock.

'Out investigating.'

She sighed, turned over and was falling back asleep when the front door slammed and Sherlock came up the stairs.

"Where's John?" she asked noticing the lack of doctor in the room.

"Detained," he replied, smiling slightly. "He'll be back soon."

Hermione decided not to question him. A few hours later John came in yelling at Sherlock about custody sergeants. The Brunette rolled her eyes and went back to her research.

Soon after, all three of them set out. John was sent to Scotland Yard and Sherlock and Hermione went back to the trade center to try and find where Van Coon had been on the day of his death. They had made it all the way to China Town before they ran into John. The boys directed them into a tourist shop. Hermione trudged along. She was beginning to feel like a third wheel again. She picked up a random teacup and microscopically gasped.

"Hey, err, Sherlock! Come here for a second." She said, silently telling him that she'd found something. He swiftly walked over to her.

"Hang Zou," She said softly. Sherlock leaned over her shoulder and took the cup from her.

The trio walked into a nearby café. They had gone through all that trouble only to find something they already knew. Sherlock and John bounced ideas of each other and Hermione tuned out again. She knew all about the Hang Zou symbols. They done all this only to find them again. Her bored eyes drifted to a telephone book outside. It was wet. She rose and went to it. She knew the boys were following her. Sherlock saw the phone book too.

"When was the last time it rained?" she voiced. Sherlock once again gave her an almost proud look.

"It's been here since Monday. Nobody's been in this flat for three days." He started leading them towards the back of the building.

"They could have gone on holiday?" John suggested.

"Do you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?" Hermione queried as Sherlock jumped and grabbed the fire escape.

"Sherlock!" John hissed and the detective climbed up, the brunette following after.

As Hermione reached to top she heard something fall.

"Someone's been here before me." Sherlock said. He turned and helped Hermione through the window. Hermione's eyebrow raised in surprise but decided not to say anything. She went about investigating the flat.

The doorbell started ringing and Hermione noticed that John hadn't followed them up the ladder. She ignored the bell and continued investigating.

"Do you think maybe you could let me in this time?" John hollered from the other side of the door. He continued ranting but Hermione stopped listening.

"We aren't the first!" Sherlock shouted in reply. He too started rambling about something. She was busy looking in the owner's bedroom when she heard Sherlock shout her name followed by the shuffling of feet and grunts. She grabbed the vase from beside the window and went to find Sherlock. A man in all black clothing was strangling the detective. Hermione ran up behind them and hit the man soundly on his head. He grunted and kicked out behind him, knocking her to the floor. She shook off the dizziness and impending headache and grabbed the attacker's feet, causing him to trip, taking Sherlock down with him. The man's grip loosened on Sherlock and allowed the detective to escape from his grasp. The detective and the brunette each quickly surveyed each other to assess the damage. In those couple of sconds the attacker regained his footing and left through the open window. Hermione followed him to the window and threw a couple of knick-knacks after him, narrowly missing. She quickly returned her attention to Sherlock who was now standing up. She rushed over to try and help but he gained footing before she could reach him.

"Are you alright?" she beggetted. The detective nodded.

"You?"

"Of course." The detective nodded again and head for the door.

Sherlock explained to a very off-put John.

Hermione picked up a note that had been slid through the letter slot.

"How about this?" Sherlock took it and started walking off, Hermione and John in tow.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hello you lot! Here's a slightly larger chapter to make up for not posting last week. So... What are your thoughts on me writing a Doctor Who/Sherlock crossover? I was watching the fan made trailer so now I'm all about wholock! Don't fret though! I will still be posting here! Tell me your thoughts by _**reviewing!**_ Oh! By the way! I just got back my very first college essay and I got an A! I'm so stoked!

Please tell me how your day has been, thoughts for an upcoming chapter, how the story is, the current state of your teddy bear's emotional wellness! Just please review! ;)

Have a _fantasmic_ day!

~thattravelergirl


	9. Chapter 9

They had gone to the museum and some skate park and Hermione felt like they were getting nowhere. They trumped around in the cold finding more pieces of the puzzle, the small ones that you can't ever find connecting pieces for. She rolled her eyes as she trudged around back streets looking for symbols. Her phone buzzed. John was calling her.

"Find anything?" She asked.

"Oh yeah! Meet Sherlock and me at the tracks," the doctor replied. He hung up. Hermione's heart rate increased at finally finding a lead. They had been going in circles the whole time, maybe this one would break the cycle. She jogged to the train tracks where she and the boys had split up. John was approaching with Sherlock in tow.

"This way," the doctor said, leading them to a tall, black, brick wall. John paled at the sight.

"It was right here, just, ten minutes ago, a whole wall of graffiti!"

John continued sputtering as Hermione went up and touched the wall.

"It's wet," She called.

"Obviously!" Sherlock retorted and started spinning John around. Hermione looked on in amusement. Sherlock started talking about visual memory and percentages and Hermione burst out laughing. She understood why Mrs. Hudson thinks they are a couple. Sherlock doesn't understand the concept of personal space. Said detective stopped spinning and turned to look at her.

"What? What did I miss?" She kept laughing. "What did I miss?" Hermione kept laughing. She calmed herself.

"Hand me your scarf." She demanded, still giggling. He handed it over to her and she began wiping the wall with it. Sherlock began to protest before she interrupted him

"The paint is still so wet that we can simply wipe away most of it and at least see some of what was under it." Sherlock grumbled but didn't say anything. John seemed to be stifling laughter.

"Ooooorrr, we can just look at the pictures I took," he said, barely containing himself. Hermione stiffened and blushed. She handed the scarf back to Sherlock sheepishly who snatched it back

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Hey you lot! I know it's been six days since I last posted, but it doesn't feel it, because I don't post on Saturdays, and then I was just chillin' from Friday to Monday, and I had class on Thursday! So sorry it's been so long! I'm so excited to write the scene where Sherlock crashes John's date, every time I sit down to write I'm like, "Am I there yet? Oh no there are still more scenes ahead." I've been trying to cut out the bits that wouldn't have too much action, but EVERYTHING SEEMS IMPORTANT! So I've been including almost everything. I didn't appreciate how long these episodes were until now!

Please review, maybe about the story or how you're day's been, the current state of Chinese politics, how fit bits work, the biological workings of mythological creatures? Just please review! :)

Have a _splendiferous _day!

~thattravelergirl

PS: Would you guys be interested in seeing a Youtube channel of me and my friend Abi? Imagine Jock and Dean and Vlogbrothers had a baby, is a reference only Youtube addicts would understand. Let me know in the reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione was fast asleep on the sofa. The trio had had an immensely tiring day and then Sherlock had them stay up all night looking for a book. Normally Hermione would go through about ten of them before she found something interesting and began reading. So far, she had gone through one crate and read half of two biographies, one book on architecture, one travel book on the Southeast of the United States, and half of a book on psychology. Sleep had finally won out around four o' clock. Sherlock kept going, book after book.

"Hermione pass me that stack," the detective called around 4:30. "Hermione?" Sherlock looked up, annoyed. His face softened when he saw Hermione fast asleep on the sofa. Curled up into a small ball, she looked so peaceful. Her dark lips stood out in contrast to her pale skin. She rarely wore makeup, and when she did she wore very little, and tonight her skin was clean and fresh. Even her wild curls seemed to be exhausted, as they had settled down to frame her face quite delicately. Sherlock watched her inhale and slowly exhale. He stood and grabbed the blanket from on top of John's chair. The doctor had been in that in-between state of sleep, but Sherlock's movements tugged him back to consciousness. He watched the detective float silently across the room and gently drape the blanket around the girl's shoulders. He paused, every muscle in him seemingly frozen in place, before he ever-so-gently stroked her hair away from her face. He didn't look like he wanted to move anytime soon, and John was too petrified to call attention to his presence in the scene, so he too sat motionless. Then John's alarm beeped. The detective whirled around to face the bright red doctor. Both men stood frozen, unsure of what to do. They would have continued if Hermione hadn't turned over in her sleep. Two sets of eyes went to her and stayed there as she settled into place. John cleared his throat and stood, seeing his exit. The detective walked over top of the table and went back to work.

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><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

Heyyyyyy guuuuuiiiiizzzzz... I am SO sorry it's been so long! I know that in the beginning I said that wouldn't go more that a week without posting, but I think starting college and a fan fiction at the same time was a very bad idea. I have just been swamped so I don't have time to write my fix, and when I do I'm working on a bit that doesn't come for EVERRRR! Spoiler: It explains my suck-ass title. So to try to make it up to you, I'm going to give you two chapters in one go! This is just a one time thing though, so don't come to expect it then get mad.

Soooooooooo... please review. Tell me about your thoughts on Ebola in the States, granting tax paying minors the right to vote, (which was, by the way, the reason I didn't post. I had to write an essay and I chose that for my topic. NO TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION!) or... if you are feeling really risqué... your thoughts on the fix. *GASP* *DUN DUN DUUUUUUNNNNNNNNT!*

So, thanks for putting up with me and my random hiatuses, please review and have a mind blowing day!

~thattravelergirl


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione woke up at around 11 o' clock. She didn't move, not wanting to be fully awake yet. She felt a pressure on her shoulders and realized it was a blanket. It must have been John or Mrs. Hudson. She could hear Sherlock still flipping through books. Through her eyelashes she saw that John wasn't there anymore. She was ready to try to sleep some more, but her stomach growled loudly, announcing her consciousness to the room. She slowly opened her eyes to find Sherlock staring at her. She raised her eyebrows in question.

"What is it?" she asked, a bit harsher than she had meant.

"Hungry?" The detective asked. Hermione blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked, walking to the kitchen.

"Errr…"

"Of course you do your stomach growled. I don't think you've eaten in over 24 hours." He started opening and closing cabinets. Hermione sat up.

"You go days without eating."

"I do. You don't. You won't be used to it." Sherlock walked over with a small plate and handed it to her. It was a peanut butter sandwich. Hermione smiled.

"Thank you." She said. Sherlock looked up from the book in his hands.

"Oh. Err… you're welcome." He sputtered, and went back to matching books. Hermione ate her sandwich quietly, and afterwards, feeling refreshed, pulled an unopened crate towards her. Sherlock and John had gotten through a lot of books last night, but there were still five waist-high stacks. She had gotten through about half of them before she found an interesting book and began reading. She had no idea how much effort went into making Legos! She snapped herself out of it and began sorting through books again. Not ten minutes later, she was curled up rereading an Agatha Christie novel. She was almost finished when John walked in. She looked around. Three of the stacks were gone.

"Where have you been?" she queried.

"Work" John answered, but Sherlock began talking over him before he could finish the word.

"I need to get some air. We're going out tonight."

"What time is it?" Hermione asked, noticing the long shadows out the window.

"Erm… 6:30." John answered. Hermione's eyebrows shot up. Sherlock grinned and exhaled sharply, like an almost-laugh. She had gotten through about a third of a crate before she started reading _Murder on the Nile_ and had been for about five hours now. Sherlock enjoyed watching her face tell him what she was reading. When something happened, her eyebrows would furrow and crease and she would frown slightly, drooping her shoulders. When she thought she knew who did it, her eyes would go wide, her irises darting back and forth at an alarming rate, and her body would go tense. Sherlock was snapped out of his daze when John called out his name.

"What? Oh yes! Going out. Where shou-"

"Actually, I have a date."

"What?" Sherlock asked. Well, he should have seen it from the moment he walked in, it was written all over him. _"Oh,"_ Sherlock thought with another almost-laugh, "_He fell asleep at his desk."_

"It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun." John explained in all seriousness. Sherlock knew what a date was…

In theory

Sherlock decided to mess with John anyway. It was fun.

"That's what I was suggesting." He said with his most serious face. Hermione giggled. See, she thought it was funny! John have an almost-laugh too.

"No it wasn't. At least I hope not."

"Where are you taking her?" Hermione asked.

"Er, Cinema."

"Dull. Boring. Predictable." Sherlock spouted. He snatched an ad from the table. He had found it in one of the most handled books from Van Coon's flat. He passed the paper to John. "Why don't you try this? In London for one night only."

"Thankssss… but I don't come to you for dating advice."


	12. Chapter 12

John had left a few minutes ago. Hermione was two pages away from finishing her book when she heard Sherlock talking.

"Hmm?" she mused without looking up.

"Hermione." Sherlock said again. Hermione sighed and looked up. Sherlock stood before her.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" he asked, so devoid of emotion that Hermione wondered if he knew what connotation the word had. She didn't see why not.

"Okay. Just let me finish my book." She said, just as bluntly. Sherlock nodded, turned on his heels and left. She paid it no mind. He probably just heard John's definition of the word and thought that was what that was. She turned her attention back to her book.

Sherlock went to get her a change of clothes. He was excited, he had never been on a date before. He knew that this one wouldn't have the romantic aspect that most did, but nonetheless, it would be interesting. He descended the stairs into her flat and went into her room, thinking nothing of it. She was in his flat all the time, so he saw no reason why hers was off limits. In her room, he quickly found her dresser full of her clothes. Most of her stuff was pretty non-descript, she didn't put much stock into looks. Sherlock sorted through her sweaters. He paused at a chunky red and black one, but he didn't like the collar. It looked funny. He cocked his head to the side at a delicate lavender one, but it was itchy. He finally decided on a soft white one. He laid it out on the bed along with a pair of black, fleece-lined leggings that looked very warm. He didn't want her to be cold. He propped her worn, brown leather boots at the foot of her bed. It was then that he heard her footsteps coming down the stairs. She peered into the room, taking in her decided outfit.

"What's this?" she asked, stepping into the room.

"I thought I'd help save time." He replied. She nodded and crossed over to the bed.

"Are we in a rush?" she asked.

"We should probably leave in about 15 minutes." He said. Hermione gave him a look.

"I'll just change then?" she said, silently telling him to leave.

"Oh! Of course. I'll be upstairs." He said, and left without looking back. About seven minutes later, Hermione came through the door of 221b. She was wearing the outfit he had picked out. He was proud of his choice. She looked very nice. Overtop she had her red coat and she was wearing her white knit gloves. She had put on a little bit of makeup. Her eyelashes were blacker, her face more matte, and her lips were shinier and a little bit darker. She smelled like paper and soil. It was a surprisingly pleasant combination. Her hair was still wild though, and Sherlock was happier because of it.

"Ready," she said, pulling on her second glove.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Ohhhhhhhh... Why Not!? (Sidenote: I wish I could type interobangs! I think I spelled that wrong...) I will give this to you because I feel really guilty and I like this bit and want praise for it. But I want AS MANY OF YOU AS POSSIBLE TO REVIEW! All of you, if possible, but I know it's unlikely. But because I am posting this now, I won't post until the weekend. Okay? Okay. ... *bursts into tears* alright, alright, enough of that!

Please review, and have the best possible day!

~thattravelergirl

* * *

><p>SOORY GUYS IM SOOOOOOOO CHANGABLE! Lol, just me, back again. I REEEAAAALLLY want to kind of count how many of you there are that actually give two cents about my story, so if you are a shadow fan (a fan who never reviews) then please... step into the light! (review) just review with a space so I know you're out there! Thanks soooo much!<p>

~thattravelergirl


	13. Chapter 13

Sherlock hailed a cab as Hermione waited. He was glad to see that see that she was comfortable and warm, despite the frigid night air. They piled into the taxi and Sherlock called an address to the cabbie.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked. Sherlock smiled to himself as he stared out the window.

"You'll see." He said coyly. Hermione raised her eyebrows, but decided to ignore it. They arrived at their destination in about 10 minutes and Sherlock paid the cabbie. When he turned around, Hermione stood on the sidewalk tapping her foot.

"What? Did I get something wrong?" Sherlock asked, concern etched on his face. Hermione's face softened a bit, but she still looked cross.

"Isn't this where John is having his date?" Hermione said pointedly.

"Well, yes, but we won't be unwelcome." Sherlock reasoned, ushering her toward the ornate doors. The paper lanterns cast a red glow onto the girl, making her look angrier than she actually was.

"I think we will be." She protested, but not before she heard John's voice from by the ticket window.

"Err, Holmes."

"Actually… I have four for that name." the man said holding up the extra pair.

"Errr… no, there were only supposed to be two." John said, confused. Sherlock stepped up behind the doctor.

"Then I phoned back and got a second pair for me and my date." He said, a fake grin plastered on his face. He introduced himself to the women beside John, who raised his eyebrows in question at Hermione. She made a sheepish and mouthed, "I'm sorry." John sighed, defeated, then grinned and mouthed, "Date". Hermione grinned back and shrugged, making an, "I guess so" face. It was remarkable how much could be conveyed between the two without words. Sherlock returned to Hermione's side and offered his arm for her to take. She grinned up at him and he did so back as she took the proffered arm. They followed John and Sarah into the performance hall. The room was dimly lit with paper lanterns and a circle of candles in the center of the room. There were no chairs, so the trio, plus one, took their places on the outskirts of the circle. John leaned over and whispered a cutting remark to Sherlock. Hermione heard 'international smugglers' and hoped that the other female wasn't listening. After a moment, a small Chinese woman dressed in exotic robes walked into the circle. Silence fell over the small crowd. The woman walked over to a contraption that looked like a crossbow and placed a very large arrow into place. Hermione realized that a drum had started beating somewhere nearby, and its presence greatly increased her adrenaline. A cymbal crashed and Hermione jumped slightly, though nothing in comparison to Sarah, who dramatically jumped towards John. The brunette rolled her eyes. Sherlock who was standing behind and to the left of her saw this and smiled. Sarah was being dramatic, and he felt particularly proud that his date wasn't exercising her sly feminine tricks. He always thought it seemed fake. He turned his attention back to the performance. The woman pulled a feather from her headdress and slowly placed it on the crossbow. With lightning speed the arrow shot into the wall it was facing. Hermione backed up a bit in surprise and bumped into Sherlock. She looked up at him, with intentions of apologizing but the words never left her lips. She had noticed his exquisite eye color before, but she had never seen them this close. They were a mix of every eye color, and they were breathtaking. Consequently, she stood for a moment, mouth agape, staring into his eyes over her shoulder. He didn't say anything, just let her look. If he were to pride himself on his physical appearance, he would be particularly proud of them. They were actually a genetic mutation called heterochromia. But he didn't. The moment ended when Hermione began to blush profusely and lowered her gaze, turning her attention back to the performance. Sherlock decided that maybe not all feminine tricks were boisterous and silly.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S Note:<strong>

Oh look! I updated on Thursday when I SAID I wouldn't update 'till the weekend! Aren't I AMAZING? No, I literally finished this chapter five seconds before posting so if it sucks, tell me! I can't tell you what an awesome day I've had, getting all those reviews saying they like my work! Please keep up reviewing! Tell me what you want to see happen and I will definitely try to work something in there! And, if you read my story and haven't reviewed yet, Please do! Also, if you guys like this fic, I wrote another, less popular Shermione fanfic called I'm Only Human, based off of the fan video on Youtube by LiquidHeart13. You all should definitely check them both out! But, it's difficult to find my fix, so either click on my profile or search for Shermione and I think mine's the only one that pops up. Oh! Do you like the pic for the story? I found it on pintrest, but I don't know who drew it so I couldn't ask permission. Oops! I think it's Sherlolly art, but it kind of looked like Hermione so that's our pic! Okay, okay, Two more things! While I do write these stories, I like reading them MUCH better! So if you have the ability to write in English and the interest in Shermione, PLEASE write a story, and tell me in the reviews! I Promise I will read it (unless it's smut, then dishonor on you and your cow [I'm not trying to trash other people's work, but I don't read smut]) and tell you what I think! And today was the last day of two of my college classes so now I only have two left, so hopefully I will be able to post more regularly and often!

Soooo... tell me about Victorian era medicine, you're thoughts on Supernatural's giffing abilities, or, if you're feeling particularly daunting, your thoughts on the fix.

Love you all!

~thattravelergirl


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